“What the fuck...?” Jo said when she discovered that they were all Pat’s clothes. “Where are mine then?”“Look, there's a note with them!�..., I told her. “It says that I have to go with the person who drove us here, and he’ll find for you them at the Mission Inn”. She paused, but I rushed them to get moving, so off we went, leaving Pat to go into the adobe and get dressed. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I saw Jim go up to the door, and go inside as Pat opened it. As I drove, it was obvious. He ambled over, and took her order of white wine. She returned her attention to me. ‘What brings you into town?’ she asked. ‘Work, same as you,’ I said after a sip of my drink. ‘I’m a media consultant. You?’ ‘Auditor.’ ‘IRS or accounting?’ I asked. She snorted. ‘IRS stay here? Private accounting firm,’ she explained. ‘It’s my boss’s client and I get to come here every year and audit the place. I hate doing it though.’ ‘Audits in general or just this one?’ ‘Just this one.’ ‘You know I have to. More

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